A Measurement of Disorder
by The What-If Writer
Summary: One-Shot, Companion Piece to 'Bottles and Potions of Brio'; Nitrus Brio finds himself reflecting once again when an old colleague returns after years of absence. Old habits never die hard.


_I wrote the majority of this little story a while ago, and decided to finish it up. Companion piece to 'Bottles and Potions of Brio'._

**_"In thermodynamics, entropy is a measure of the number of specific ways in which a thermodynamic system may be arranged, commonly understood as a measure of disorder."_**

* * *

A Measurement of Disorder

The semi-familiar sound of glass knocking gently against china rang out softly to Brio's ears as he turned his back. It was a sound he never made himself; he was used to tap-like noises of beakers and bottles, not the elegant tingle of a tea set.

It was the kind of sound you would associate with something; like the rooster in the morning. This one he associated with the azure man sitting at the table not too far behind him.

He hadn't seen Nefarious Tropy in what felt like years. The Uneasy nostalgia wasn't welcomed.

Simultaneously, though, the same part of his mind felt a strange longing for the times before all this; where they still had that raw motivation and the ability to withstand each other- that is, Tropy, Cortex, Gin and himself. The N Team. To put it in a childish way, it hadn't been the same without the tall man hovering around.

"Dr Cortex didn't mention your visit." Brio remarked plainly, tipping some coffee beans into a mug. The strong smell of caffeine brushed his nose as he waited for the reply.

The clink of the cup against the saucer again. "Uka Uka contacted me directly." The snide tone wasn't lost in the time he'd been away. Brio's lip cracked upwards at the unintentional pun.

"Why was that again...?" Brio honestly had too many plots to remember he forgot which was the most recent. Tropy huffed behind him.

"That is why I came. He wanted the lot of us gathered before the announcement of his plan." Brio could tell he wasn't too happy about it. The potion maker turned his head, his hand precariously pouring hot water into his own mug.

"Did you speak with Dr Cortex before coming into the castle?" Tropy's lip curled and the shorter man could tell he hadn't. Probably just so he could see the even smaller man jump when he came into the room. Brio could see it now- Cortex waltzing, stopping mid-sentence and leaping back like a maid who'd seen a mouse.

He knew the tranquillity that had fallen over the castle for years would be shattered. He and Tropy would started a fight, verbal abuse all the way; Gin would come running to see what was going on and stand up on Cortex's behalf- the minions would peer around the doorway to see it unfold as he, Brio, tried to break it up.

Yet, despite the dread he'd expected, some part of him...wished for it? No. That sounded too close. They weren't friends, yet...it had been the norm years ago; a daily morning ritual they'd gone through. He was sure Tropy and Cortex (or at least the latter) would keep insults in mind for the next time. Chaos was their lives, they where villains. Conflict and battle was desired.

And it had been gone among them for so long. Maybe that vacancy Tropy left had been bigger than Brio previously thought.

"It seems your voice has changed yet again. The last time we met you had no voice at all." Tropy spoke indifferently; but a long brow was raised as he brought the cup back to his lips. Brio shrugged.

"Simply a side-effect of the potions. In fact, it is quite beneficial."

"As is the constant threat of transforming into a giant green being?"

Someone hadn't changed at all. Brio's nose wrinkled slightly at the comment, but he didn't let anything else show his own distaste of the less beneficial side effect. Of course, being able to smash a wall down could be useful, but the transformations from scientist to hulking monster happened at less than convenient moments. He himself tried to keep off the subject of it. Tropy clearly knew that the side-effect wasn't intention and thus some kind of set back or failure.

And he knew Tropy better than he hoped he'd end up knowing, and he knew the man always looked for flaws to point out. It was much harder, as Brio had mused before, to get through this man's confidence in a battle of insults. It was like living in an overly violent school with no rules.

"I heard that Gin's mental state deteriorated." Tropy remarked reproachfully, dragging him away from his musings. Was he really getting that absent-minded? Oh well.

"His mental state was never...in tact so to speak." Brio replied, stirring his coffee with a chipped spoon. Tropy cocked a brow.

"You know what I meant."

Unfortunately he did. Nitrus Gin, when he'd met his...replacement right-hand man, had been a temperamental man but had some grounds at least; you could tell he had intelligence and that he knew what he was doing at times; though he was aggressive and eccentric. He had been insane from the beginning, but...now it was like he had no control at all. His mind barely focused on what he was doing and his nerve had faltered. He was...deranged. Yes, that was the word.

They really had to put some kind of leash on that man. He still had a rocket in his head. "I'm afraid his mental state has become less...stable as you've heard. He's...slightly bipolar."

"Hmm." Tropy took a silent sip from his tea; a feat Cortex could never accomplish without burning himself and proceeding to make as much pained noise as possible. "Not that I'm surprised."

Brio tried not to frown. How could be so smug as to think he'd have the knowledge of this coming? Oh of course. Time travel. Either that or he simply thought he knew too much. "I see." He didn't want to cause an argument. He had work to do; being pumped up on anger when needing to focus had bad results for him.

Tropy eyed him with a little more hostility than before. Brio felt his nerves tense slightly.

To his surprise, the proud time expert let his tone slide, and sipped at his tea once again. A heavier sort of silence followed.

"...Do you think of the old days?"

The words surprised him almost as much as they did Tropy, whose beady eyes locked on him a little more quickly than usual, and the way he lowered his cup was more forceful, as if he concentrated on that to postpone thinking of an answer for a few more seconds.

"By 'old days' you mean when we first gathered and went through various failures, most of which by Dr Cortex's hand?" Nefarious said plainly, though his inner scorn wasn't hidden. Brio chose not to argue with that view and gave a stiff nod. To his surprise, Tropy smirked faintly,

"I did not think of them often, though recently I have been...reflecting. And I stand by my statement that leaving the group benefited my work greatly."

"I heard about the paradoxes- the newspaper articles where in bemusement when Museum artefacts began moving and vanishing."

"Indeed."

The azure man seemed quite pleased with himself, though Brio couldn't help but find the action of making paradoxes a little too akin to that of pranks. He again made no comment though. Internally, his mind muttered that he still had no spine.

Then something caught Brio's attention. He rose a bushy brow, "If you stand by your decision, why return now?"

"I am not returning." Tropy retorted flatly, his look blunt and his gaze as penetrative and steady as a surgical knife at work, long lean eyebrows furrowed down with his brow, "Uka Uka made it clear I would not be working with you lot indefinably. In fact, we shall barely see each other at all."

He lifted his cup to take another sip, and gave a disgruntled look when he found it was empty. Brio almost felt comforted by the familiarity of the expression; the wrinkle nose and lip that made the sophisticated man look rather comical. He did not offer to refill his cup. He would have, years back. They'd almost been friends then. And, judging by the fact they were able to speak without breaking into an argument, he supposed that was the closest thing the two of them would get.

Then, hurried footsteps on the floor above echoed through the castle; followed by the uneven, hop-like steps that Brio recognised as Gin's. He must be following Cortex.

"By the prickling of my thumbs..." Brio found himself muttering- and Tropy smirked in the faintest manner,

"Something not-so wicked this ways comes."

They shared the briefest, faintest of grins at their little jab at Cortex's unmistakable incompetence, but it was not commented on nor acknowledged. They turned their heads to the doorway, where in the hall they saw the clownish shadow of cortex growing on the wall. Their conversation died, secluded in the room. Like the look, it may have never occurred at all as far as anyone else was concerned.


End file.
